Killer Queen
by TiffaniLouise
Summary: Unilock. Punklock. Molly drags everyone to a rock concert to see her favorite band, Killer Queen. Sherlock and the leas singer, Lucinda Heart hit it off straight away.
1. Killer Queen

**Killer Queen**

Sherlock stretched out, the sheet falling down to reveal the alabaster skin of his shoulders and back. There was an annoying buzzing from his phone on his bedside table, which he had been attempting to ignore by reclosing his eyes. Instead of trying to turn the phone off he just zoned the sound out, closing his eyes tighter and wishing for sleep to once again overtake him.

His curly black hair was unruly due to moving around in his restless sleep. The door opened wide, light pouring into the once dark room, Sherlock groaned, opening his eyes to see Molly Hooper. She was dressed in her usual mismatched outfit, this time a pair of jeans and a band top with a flower cardigan over the top, her dark blonde hair tied back in a high pony tail, slightly messes up. She was dangling John's keys in her hand like a trophy.

"I knew you wouldn't be up" she moaned at him, taking in the sight of him in bed with a faint blush tainting his cheeks. It wasn't a secret that she was attracted to him.

"Go away" Sherlock mumbled into his pillow.

Molly ignored him in favour of picking pair of jeans a top out of his dresser and throwing them at him with some force. "You promised to come to the concert with me, you are not backing out now."

"Concert?" he yawned, lifting his head from the pillow.

"Yeah" she answered. "The concert in the park, the one that I told you about last month, the others are already there, so get dressed and hurry cause I refuse to miss my favourite band because you were sleeping."

Sherlock groaned but did as she said. Molly turned to protect his modesty but he suspected it was more so about her modesty about anything, she was shy when it came to nudity, whereas Sherlock didn't care. She was a kind natured girl but he didn't want to risk pissing her off about this, going from the band tee she was wearing: a black top with a gold crown with red stones printed on, the name 'Killer Queen' scrawled across mimicking spray paint with drips of fake paint. He pulled on the black jeans and the top she had thrown at him; it was a simple grey shirt that hugged his lean body nicely. He grabbed his set off keys, phone and a wad of ten pound notes, shoving them into his pocket and pulling the leather jacket from the back of his door on.

XXXXXXX

The car journey was filled with Molly's endless chatter about the band. In the twenty minute car journey he learnt a whole lot about the whole band. There were five members, four men and one girls, they grew up around the same place in London according to magazine articles but it's obvious that Lucinda was from a high class family. She was currently paying all of their tuition fees for university. The drummer, Jimmy Noland had long hair that he mostly kept tied back and often dyed and was surprisingly a math student. The bassist, Mickey Smith, a science student with brown hair, Finn Guinness, the guitarist studied art, he designed their album covers and merchandise. People recognised him via his bleach blonde hair and natural blonde sides. The lead guitarist, Robbie Grey is in Molly's words _dreamy_ with his curly brown hair, cut in a stylish long top and short sides style, studying a medical degree to become a doctor.

And Lucinda Heart, the front of the band, lead singer and occasional guitarist, was often known as the band personified. The killer queen herself. A Literature student on joint honours with French, originally from London. She herself is _hot_, everyone thinks so apparently, with a rock image that is completely individual. Magazines and blogs tell her that she is beautiful, long black hair and green eyes, an orphan.

Sherlock listens, taking in the information while patting his bed hair slightly while looking in the mirror. It felt like an age of mindless chatter before they arrived at the crowded park. A stage was set at one end of the park, with a crowd of darkly dressed sixteen to twenty three year olds crowded around it. They parked the car and she lead them over to where the others were, at the corner of the crowd waiting for them.

John is stood looking casual in a pair of dark denim jeans and a white top with a blue checked shirt undone over the top, a simple black leather jacket over the top. It was worn with badged sewn into the fabric, he looked good. His blonde hair was mussed and blue eyes bright in the darkening park. Mike was beside him, wearing his contacts instead of his glasses, brown hair slightly messy, dressed in a similar fashion to John.

Molly threw the keys to John, who caught them with ease, a smile on his face as he looked at his sleepy friend.

"I hate you" Sherlock muttered, making his friends chuckle.

Molly took one look at the stage and practically squealed in excitement, grabbing Sherlock's hand and pulling him through the crowd. Sherlock allowed himself to be lead towards the stage, knowing John and Mike were right behind him.

The band on stage were barely visible due to the lack of light at this moment in time, Sherlock could tell that it was the band that Molly was so keen on seeing. There were the distinct outline of four guys and one girl with their instruments, the female outline didn't have an instrument but she was setting up the microphone stand to her perfect height. Even from her outline he could see the she was wearing a tight outfit that didn't change her figure at all, she was lean, the curves of his hips and breasts visible in the lack of lighting.

The lighting came up as the band started playing. Sherlock gaped, openly gaped at the lead singer. Molly's description hadn't done the singer justice, she was beautiful, hair down in large waves, messy in a sensual style. Her green eyes were bright, lined with thick but clean eyeliner, cheeks dabbed with glitter. All the was covering her lean body was a ripped black body suit, the material covered her whole form, with large rips in the stomach, legs, chest and arm, one arm was completely missing. There were three cuts in the chest, revealing the pink of her bra while still tasteful.

He distantly remembered the tune of the song from a pop song that was often on the radio, the band were covering a pop song, making it into a rock song which was their chosen genre. Lucinda was whispering along with the rest of her band mates "get lucky" in the opening of the song.

Molly tugged gently on his arm, catching his attention and asked. "Would you be able to get me their autograph after the show?"

Sherlock nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. It would give him the perfect opportunity to deduce her and actually meet this girl, she seemed far too good to be true.

XXXXXX

After a half an hour performance from the band, Sherlock was making his way to the backstage, it was makeshift but all the performers had separate rooms ready for them. Molly had given him a pen and paper from her pocket, he was holding them tightly, obviously she thought he would be the best person for this job, something about him not being able to take no as an answers. The others were waiting just outside the backstage area. He stopped in front of the door labelled 'LH – Killer Queen', the only 'L' name in the band. He knocked once, his knuckles rapping against the wooden door.

"Come in" a female voice called from inside.

Sherlock took a breath and followed the command, opening the door and stepping into the room. It was simple, a sofa on one side and a dressing table with a rack of clothes next to it. The dark haired girl was sat on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other delicately, the heavy black boots she had been wearing before still on her feet. Her naturally rosy lips turned up into a smile at the sight of him, green eyes bright. She kept her hands on the bottle of water she was resting on her flat tummy.

"Autograph?" she guessed, giving a nod to gesture to the pen and paper. Her voice was slightly hushed, the result of a performance but still light and beautiful.

"Yes" he answered simply, grey eyes scanning over her slightly.

Lucinda lifted the bottle to her lips, eyes on his the whole time as she sipped at the cold water. She placed the cap back on the water and put it on the floor, standing up to talk to him properly. With the wedged boots she was just a few inches shy of his height, without them she would reach to his shoulders.

"Should I make it out to your girlfriend?" she asked, looking at him innocently, taking the pen and paper from him and leaning it against the wall ready to write.

"Girlfriend?" he repeated sounding offended by the accusation, brows furrowing.

"Yeah, I saw you with her in the crowd, dark blonde hair in a pony tail, cute wearing a cardigan, she was tugging at your arm quite a lot."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust, she thought Molly was his girlfriend. "No. No" he managed. "She's not my girlfriend."

Lucinda smiled, slightly amused by his facial expression. "Good" she told him before scribbling something down on the paper, some words followed by a curly signature. She folded it up but didn't hand it back to him, instead she walked over to the dressing table, picking up four signed albums and signed photos and handing them to him. Purposely avoiding handing him the paper, the pen she gave with the other merchandise.

"You're an orphan" he observed. She widened her eyes in surprise and settled on a 'explain' gesture. Sherlock was more than happy to comply. "There's a picture on your dressing table, you and your parents, your significantly younger in the photo and it's worn but not the original copy. You treasure it, like a good luck charm, if your parents were alive you'd have a more recent picture. Then there's your obvious money, paying for your band mates to get through university, that's quite a selfless act, you've obviously got money but not from singing. A trust fund then, obvious, you're an only child and from a wealthy background I'd say."

"What else can you tell?" she asked, her voice thick from heavy breaths.

"You're confident; I can see that much in your wardrobe choice, very daring and flattering. You work out a lot, probably helps you concentrate. Music is your life but you also care about literature, and French apparently, as that is you're major. So you are intelligent, and it comes across in things I would assume. I can tell that you write a lot of your own music, with the help of your bandmates, there is a lot of passion in the music, watching you perform tells me that you love what you do, performing. And you're a very selfless person, you like your fans, enjoy meeting them, you let a total stranger into your room, that's me by the way" he gave a small wave "and offered to sign something for me, I could have been anyone, and you've handed me free merchandise."

Sherlock gave a smile at the end, the fake kind that looked cheeky after his deductions. Lucinda stood staring at him for a moment, blinking every so often but keeping her eyes firmly on him. "That-" she began, unsure how to respond. "That was…amazing."

Sherlock looked at her blankly. "You think so?"

"Of course it was" she confirmed confidently, smiling at him. "That was absolutely amazing…not to mention sexy. Do you do that a lot?"

Sherlock nodded, she mimicked the nod in confirmation of what he had just said. "You were wrong on one account though" she admitted, a smile threatening to break on her lips.

Sherlock eyes narrowed, clouding slightly. "Really?"

"Yes" she nodded, folding her arms over her stomach, the paper still in her hand as she eyed him up with a smug look. "I knew you'd be coming to my dressing room, you're friend who is not your girlfriend asked you to come back here as we began performing, I'm pretty good at lip reading, it comes with singing I guess." Sherlock looked faintly surprised, a genuine smile twitching at the corner of his lips. "Lucinda Heart" she introduced herself properly to him. "Well that's my stage name, most people call me Luce."

"Luce then" he confirmed smiling. "Sherlock Holmes"

A knock on the door interrupted her, green eyes flicking to the door. "Come in" she announced, sounding slightly disappointed.

Sherlock pursed his lips, taking this as his cue to leave as a fellow bandmate entered, one Robbie Grey, lead guitarist, his expression slightly amused at the sight of her with a guest. Sherlock gave a polite nod and exited the room, leaving the backstage area and walking outside to his friends. They were stood much the same as he left them, John with his hand in his pocket and John talking to Molly. They all looked as he walked out. He wavered the signed merchandise at them.

"What happened?" John asked.

Molly spoke quickly, adding "What did she say?"

Sherlock handed them all their merchandise, keeping a CD and photo for himself. "She offered to sign the paper, gave me these, that's it."

John looked at him disbelief. "Where's the autographed paper then?" he asked his friend, noticing that Sherlock had got signed CDs and photographs but not the piece of paper that Molly had given him.

Sherlock looked confused for a moment, glancing at his hands, noticing that he had in fact forgot the paper, remembering that she had it in her hand when they were talking. "I forgot it" he admitted.

John opened his mouth to speak but a female voice cut in. "You forgot this" they all turned to the owner of the voice, one Lucinda Heart. She was in the same outfit, with a long leather coat over the top, the paper between two fingers delicately. She was smiling at him, surrounded by her fellow bandmates. Sherlock nodded and took the offered piece of paper, ready to hand it over to Molly. "It's for you" she clarified.

Sherlock opened the piece of paper, looking at the neat scribbled message '_Call me'_ with her number and name signed. He looked up at her slightly unsure. "You barely know me" he said softly.

"Yeah but you seem to know me quite well, that's enough for me" she took a step forward, folding the paper back up and placing it in his jeans pocket. She smiled, stepping back. "I'm serious, call me."

And with that her and four smug looking band mates were walking away towards a large black car. She turned, waking backwards and called back. "Come back tomorrow, if you bring your friends, I'll make sure you have time to meet the whole band" she promised.

Robbie turned back to look at the group. "See you tomorrow" he called back, they both turned forwards and continued walking to their car, bickering in a friendly manner before departing in the waiting car.

Sherlock stood shocked, not as shocked as his friends, but still shocked.


	2. Text

**Text**

Sherlock all but collapsed on his bed when they got home, John had gone with Molly and Mike to finish a project that needed to be finished by morning. Apparently, his getting Luce's number was all his friends could talk about on the way home. The concert apparently forgotten in favour of wanting all the details on Sherlock's meeting with 'the most attractive woman in music' – paraphrased by John and Mike with less colourful words included. He refused to say more than she assumed Molly was his girlfriend and he corrected her, she said that was good. Apart from that he kept quiet, too busy thinking about what exactly had just happened.

He pulled the piece of paper with her number out of his pocket and added the number to his phone, considering her instructions to call him. Instead he wrote a text

**Is there anything in particular you wanted me to text you, rather than the obvious 'hello' –SH**

Sending the message without a second thought, he only waited half a minute for a response.

**You could have just said the obvious hello or followed my instructions and called – LA**

Sherlock smirked at the response. Typing out a reply fast.

**I've never been one for following instructions, sorry to disappoint. What does the 'A' stand for? –SH**

**You're not really sorry are you? I can practically hear the sarcasm in your voice and Avery, my real surname. Lucinda Anne Marie Avery. – LA**

**No, I'm not. How can you hear sarcasm through a text? – SH**

**Well you can't but if you called I'd be able to hear it, too bad, I liked your voice ****L - LA**

Sherlock chuckled.

**I prefer to text and you're voice isn't so bad – SH**

**Is that a compliment? –LA**

**Yes –SH**

**I thought so but it didn't sound like one, most people use adjectives when they complement my voice – LA**

**I'm not most people –SH**

**I know –LA**

A second text came through directly after.

**That's why I like you –LA**

Sherlock couldn't help but smile at the screen, thinking of a good response for that, he obviously liked her too but saying it out right just wouldn't do.

**Where are you? –SH**

**My flat, where are you? –LA**

**My dorm room, where in your flat? –SH**

**You live in a dorm? Why? How old are you? –LA**

**And just in my bedroom – LA**

**Yes I live in a dorm room, I'm at University. 19 –SH**

**SNAP! Why are you in a dorm in your second year? –LA**

**We're staying here until out flat is ready, should be ready in the next few weeks. Me and John (the blonde) are moving in together. –SH**

**Should I expect a happy announcement? ;) –LA**

**No. –SH**

**Chill 'Lock, I was just joking. I would however love to hear more about you, if you would indulge me –LA**

**There isn't much to tell. I study at London University, mostly science, my parents live outside of London and are very overbearing, not as much as my fat older brother. He is a nosy bugger, I had never heard of your band until my friend dragged me to your concert. –SH**

Sherlock couldn't lie and say he wasn't worried when after five minutes there was no response. So he sent another message, hoping to not sound pathetic.

**Did I offend you? – SH**

**No, why would you? –LA**

**You didn't respond –SH**

**Oh, I didn't mean to worry you. I was just getting myself some tea and running a bath – LA**

**You didn't worry me –SH**

**Not even a little? ;) –LA**

**No – SH**

**Shame –LA**

**Is it? –SH**

**Yeah and not listening to my music isn't a crime, but it totally should be – LA**

**I'm a fan now – SH**

**Good, are you alone? – LA**

Sherlock briefly considered his answer, looking around his and John's room, he was the only one there, John wouldn't be back to later and the door was locked.

**Yes –SH**

**Send me a picture –LA**

**Why? – SH**

**To look at, or that was the general idea –LA**

Sherlock shrugged and complied, taking a picture of himself. It showed his leant against the wall, his curly black hair surrounding his pale face, a small smile on his lips, still wearing the same clothes as earlier, except for the leather jacket which he had removed before sitting on his bed.

**Hot –LA**

A picture followed the response. It was taken in the mirror of a large grey bathroom, in the reflection was Lucinda, dressed in the same as she was at the concert, her hair messy and eyes seductive. Sherlock smiled.

**You're still wearing the same clothes as you were earlier – SH**

**As are you- LA**

**Touché – SH**

**Want to know what I'm wearing now? – LA**

Sherlock gulped but responded confidently.

**Yes –SH**

Two pictures came through, one of her long tanned legs in the bath, bubbles surrounding the flesh. The picture left almost nothing to the imagination, cutting out at the top of her thighs, where they met in the middle. The next was of her face, shoulders and collars visible, no straps or anything on her body. Bubbles were clinging to her skin, and in the bottom of her long messy hair. Green eyes staring down the mobiles camera at him, makeup still on her face.

**I'm naked – LA**

Sherlock pursed his lips, ignoring how arousing this whole situation was. A beautiful woman was sitting in the bath while she texted him, she wasn't even bothering to hide it.

**Are you sexting me? –SH**

**Do you want me to? – LA**

**Yes – SH**

The phone ringing shocked him, he placed the phone at his ear.

"I asked you to call me, I hear phone sex is a lot more rewarding than sexting." She mocked down the phone, voice still gentle. "Why are you still awake?"

"I thought we were sexting, that was reason enough to stay awake." He responded, relaxing slightly on the bed.

A small laugh echoed down the phone. "Sweetie, if you go to bed now, like I'm about to because frankly I'm knackered, I will do more than sext you tomorrow."

"Promises, promises" he sighed down the phone.

"I don't make promises that I can't keep, I'll even dress up pretty for you, pick a colour and I'll wear it. Come to my show and sleep now, and I'll reward you."

"Red" he responded. "It will compliment your hair and eyes."

"Goodnight Sherlock, I will see you tomorrow." The phone buzzed as she hung up on him. Sherlock, although he hated to do what he was told, followed her instructions. He pulled off his clothes, leaving only his pants on and settled under the sheets, he closed his eyes, thinking about Lucinda as he drifted off into sleep.


End file.
